Malevolent Marks
by Tamha
Summary: The Black Phoenix Tattoo and Piercing Parlour, the first shop of its kind on Diagon rather than Knockturn Alley, consults for "curse scar" removal. Severus Snape makes an appointment. (EWE, Snape Lives!, Crossposted to AO3)


Severus Snape thought he would never be completely rid of his Dark Mark. After the Dark Lord's final defeat (and the unanticipated survival of both Potter and himself), the mark faded to a faint white outline. The difference from the red, irritated appearance it had when the first war ended was proof He wasn't coming back, at least. If it wasn't for the persistent burning sensation, he would attempt to ignore it as a scar of his troubled youth. It certainly wasn't the only one he had, though it was the only one most of the Wizarding population of Britain considered damning. Or they would, if not for Potter's efforts on his behalf.

Dumbledore had, of course, left sufficient records, testimony and memories to present at his trial and fight for his freedom. The paperwork and vials were secured in the headmaster's quarters, locked until the final death of Voldemort. However, it was the passionate testimony of the Boy Who Lived Twice which is credited with securing his pardon, his well-deserved Order of Merlin, First Class, and the unwanted attention of the public. His reputation as a formidable ex-Death Eater combined with the way he had intimidated his classes kept most reporters from accosting him, and the discovery of a certain unregistered _animagus_ and her beetle form took care of the only uncowed and problematic one. The general populous, in turn, soon took to only noticing him at a safe distance, if at all, especially since he avoided press releases, charity events and celebratory functions which would renew stories about him in the Daily Prophet.

Even so, he still had use for a pseudonym on occasion. His appointment at The Black Phoenix Tattoo and Piercing Parlour, the first of its kind not hidden down Knockturn Alley, was one such event. It was the fine print of their advertisement in Potions Periodical which caught his eye. It was nearly identical to the one that appears weekly in the Prophet, except for the line "Curse Mark Removal Consultation by Appointment." Intrigued by this discrepancy, Snape decided to see which other publications included the line. Journals and papers that had the ad but weren't monitored by the Ministry included the line, while those that were government inspected did not. This service must have been designed to target former Death Eaters, possibly as a sting operation or perhaps as a way for whoever figured out how to remove Dark Marks to collect favours from them. Even so, he decided it was worth checking out.

The entry of the parlour is small and somehow cosy, with art books laid out for both of the tattoo artists near loveseats and armchairs, a jewellery display case next to the appointment desk featuring studs, hoops and bars for piercings, shelves displaying tattoo and piercing care potions on the back wall, and even several animated posters, featuring both art and tattooed models, for sale on the side walls. After checking in, he stands looking at a poster of Phoenix Black, obviously the shop owner, while he waits. The poster features the man photographed waist up from behind, arms held in front of him and black hair pinned up to display his back, which fills most of the image. A Hungarian Horntail looming protectively over her clutch is tattooed across his exposed skin. The dragon flutters her wings, swishes her tail, and threateningly bares her teeth, though the wizard barely even shifts his stance. Despite his lean but muscular form, the model is but a canvas and not the art himself.

"This way, please, Mr. Prince," the secretary calls. Severus is sure to keep his face impassive, as his customary scowl tends to break his glamours among former students. Though, he is actually rather sure the secretary isn't a former student at all, despite the fact she looks to be maybe two years younger than Draco. Perhaps she was home-schooled, or a squib, or even the Muggle sibling of another witch or wizard. She has a Cockney accent, so it's unlikely she attended a Wizarding school outside of Britain.

She leaves him in a workroom covered with art painted directly on the walls. His eyes are immediately drawn to a simmering cauldron, where his own (slightly younger) self is glaring at him from behind it. The painting is surprisingly accurate, lacking the caricature he would expect from a former student. The only two of his former male students who could get away with using Black as a pseudonym are Malfoy and Potter. Even if Draco wasn't blonde, he never honed any artistic craft. Potter, on the other hand, doodled on all of his assignments, making it clear who Phoenix Black must be. Just as Severus finishes casting a few enchantments on his now smirking likeness, he hears a door open to his left. He watches the young man enter out of the corner of his eye from what is likely his office.

"When I was informed that a Mr. Prince scheduled a consultation with me, he was in the same room." His tone is soft and respectful, but despite that the Potion Master recognises the boy's voice. "He moves between this cauldron and one on the wall in my office. Some days he avoids me, but usually he follows me back and forth just to glare his displeasure at me or my clients. He's hidden from me for three days just so I couldn't keep you from seeing him."

Snape lets his glamour drop as he turns to look at the Saviour of the Wizarding World. He no longer looks so much like his father, but has matured into his own man. His hair is long, as the poster out front indicated, and his glasses are gone. His eyes are inexplicably brown, but revert after a moment to the bright green he inherited from Lily. The famous lightning bolt scar strikes down from his hair as the Potion Master watches, though it is faded from his school days. He's wearing just a black vest as if it was a decent shirt and a pair of Muggle blue jeans, but at least they fit him tightly. Gone are the threadbare, baggy clothes of his youth. Wrapped around his right forearm is a basilisk tattoo, and the upper arm sports Fawkes. His left forearm initially looks blank, until a golden snitch briefly flits into view. The left upper arm has his snowy owl on it, likely a _memento mori_ of his post owl. Under his collarbones is the start of some kind of night scene, but the shirt obscures all but part of the moon and what look to be the horns of a stag. His hands are stuffed in his pockets, and the corners of his lips are quirked.

"I am sure that the reason for my visit is obvious to you, Mr. Potter?" Even though he's wearing lightweight charcoal robes, the older man still smooths them and crosses his arms over his chest the way his former student remembers from Potions lessons.

The younger man nods. "Call me Harry, sir. Or Phoenix, since that's what my name is here. And yes, I've been told it's like having a permanent first-degree burn. Draco Malfoy told me when he played guinea pig for the removal process." He motions to the tattooing chair in the middle of the room. "Take off your robe and roll up your shirtsleeve, please, and have a seat."

Snape hangs his robe on a hook near the door back to the hall, along with this frock coat beneath it. Soon he is sitting with this sleeve rolled up, the pale lines on his left arm exposed to Harry's eyes. "I swear I saw Harry Potter on the front page of the Prophet again last week, hair short and messy as it was in school. Perhaps you can explain that, _Black_?"

Harry rolls his eyes at the use of his pseudo last name, said in the same tone he used for Sirius or how he says Potter, before responding. "It occurred to me, after going ten years without needing a haircut, that there must be some kind of explanation. If I hadn't known Tonks, I might not have figured out that I have a small amount of _metamorphmagus_ ability. Even once I figured it out, I had to hide _this_ " he points at the faint blemish on his forehead with a sneer, "with muggle concealer for almost a year before I managed to shift it." He pulls up a rolling stool to sit on, peering at the exposed skin.

"How will you get rid of it?" No potion, ritual or spell that Severus has tried had done anything to the remnants of the Dark Mark. In fact, most of his attempts temporarily increased the pain of it.

Harry looks him in the eye. "A salve made with blood magic and a spell in _parseltongue_ , so I'd thank you kindly to keep the details to yourself. To be honest, yours is the first pre-resurrection Dark Mark I've tried this on, so my blood and his weren't linked yet when he Marked you. Even so, I'm confident it will still work." After summoning a small jar from the office, silent and wandless, he speaks again. "This will bloody hurt, Severus Snape, but you will finally be completely free."

When applied, the salve feels like it has instantly frozen the skin beneath it. The _parsel_ spell feels like his blood is boiling and his bones are melting. The pain is as terrible as Lord Voldemort's strongest _Crucio_ , though focused entirely in his forearm. The application of the Mark in the first place was only slightly less painful, from what he can recall.

After the process is finished, Severus can't help but let his eyes linger on the skin of his left arm: smooth and blemish free.

* * *

 _AN: I just want to say thanks to those who've enjoyed and followed/faved/reviewed this story. I don't actually intend to ever extend it, but if you wish to adopt or expand from it, please contact me so I can read it and add a link to it here. ;)_


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